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This, then
is the middle
in the middle of nowhere --
Where short grass
and prairie dogs collide
in a cacophony of silence.
You ask yourself
Why
you live here --
where the wind
is as persistent and
variable as a rivers current
where
even the magpies long to be elsewhere.
Oh, sure, there are times
you see clouds stumble across the sky
on wispy, watery legs
propped up by jagged, electric
walking sticks and
the prairie
wears a wreath of rain.
You see all of this and more,
and your heart fills, then breaks
breaks
at the beauty of it all --
the beauty and the solitude.
But the wind steps in
to fill the void.
You understand
then
why people go crazy
here.
You wonder if you might be one of them.
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